The Plaster of Thought-Walls: 114

  
 Thought: Seven Hundred Ninety-Two
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 One. I love you, you know?---like still waters,
 And yet, like a wrathful tsunami too...
 I exist so intensely that you never understood---
 I exist...!
 (You) are absent so completely that I cannot grasp---
 You are not...!
 Some version of you...pervades everything---
 My non-being...becoming intimately mine!
 
 Two. They have already written that the most painful fall is the fall of the ideal. The ideal of ours and the ideal of those we have embraced. The first one is a more painful and natural effort, so to avoid pain, it leads us to see no log in our eye, and a splinter in the eye, we find for the fall of the second one. Or, if we like, it's much easier for us to force a second person to sweep on their doorstep than to clean up our own backyard.
 It seems to me that the phrase "be ideal" has its roots in our
 upbringing. Here we are primarily rated for our performance. It's the performance measurable and visible. We don't understand that the important thing is what we can't see. And so often we harm ourselves and others because we can't tolerate each other. We mould even the small, smiling child when he does not sit on the potty at a time when it is "ideal", when he doesn't want to sleep when it's "ideal." We blame our counterpart for unwashed dishes when it is "ideal" to wash them after lunch. In other words, we blame the world for not being "ideal" while building the ideal world ourselves. And if the latter manages to fulfil our ideal at the cost of great self-denying, we immediately find another area in which it is not very "ideal".
 What's going on, then? Why are we doing this? Why does the phrase "be ideal" just bloom and seem eternal?
 Because it's not so much about the other, it's about ourselves. The outside world is our mirror. And when we fail at something, we can't admit it. We admit it by tormenting others. It takes little to understand the phrase "be ideal." Don't believe it? So remember when you moulded someone for something. Well, that's deeply rooted in us. We just don't want to admit it. There's something we're not compared to ourselves. We want others to be "ideal" the way we would like them to be.
 We don't see the log in our eye. In the eye of the other, we can also see a splinter from the same tree.
 
 Three. Fear is the poison that circulates in our veins and deprives us of our courage, our driving force, like a moon that covers the sun to take away its light and leave us in the dark for a while...
 Fear is an evil friend of ours that we don't like, and yet we fear him, and we can hardly face him. But who succumbs to him, feels as if he were thrown off a cliff...

Fear is a puppeteer who pulls the strings of our feelings to confuse our minds and enrich the theatre scene with many sudden twists… Fear is our caring advisor who wants to protect us from the unknown and, in his opinion, the dangerous things that are around us. It prevents us from revealing what lies behind the curtain, what lurks in the dark and binds our minds and limbs to contain us. But time doesn’t stop, so why should we? Fear is a disease that makes us cowards who curl up in a corner and turn to stone, so we can’t go and meet what might happen to us… A coward ceases to be a coward when reality stands next to him who fears far more than he does. That’ll give him the courage to show others there’s nothing to worry about… Fear is a flame that burns before us, and we prefer not to go, we just watch it from far behind. My dad used to say, “What you’re afraid of, touch it.” So why not go near the flame and touch it? Maybe it only burns in our imaginations, but we don’t really have to burn ourselves… Fear can be defined by many definitions and can be divided into many kinds… But there’s only one way to overcome it, not to listen to it!… Perhaps one day I can do it too… Four. Friendship… It’s trust, the ability to say words honestly, so that they don’t sing, it’s openness and understanding… There are many kinds of friends… Friends from the parks, friends from school, transports, discos or nowadays very popular friends from the Internet. But who are the right ones, those who will shed tears from our faces, those who will always make us laugh? They’re the ones who don’t mind us calling them at midnight. Those who experience happiness and misfortune with us, and we can complain to them at any time. They are the ones who would put their hand in the fire for us and those who would never let us drown. Sometimes a friend is really hard to find, but anyone who’s already found a few wouldn’t change. A friend is not the one who slanders us behind our backs, envies us, and mocks us every time we fail. A friend is the one who dumps these (non)friends far beyond the ocean of our existence. They say you get to know a friend in an emergency, but do we have to wait until we’re at our worst and see what our supposed friends do? If they turn their backs or come up to us, they’ll hug us and say, “That’ll be fine”? Yes, really. Need, trouble, problems are the ones that reveal true friendships. I think only those who don’t leave us in these moments can be considered true friends. Everyone has a few friends in their lives, some leave, some come, but the real ones stay with us forever, although they will have to go far beyond the deep oceans and high mountains. We don’t forget them, we remember what we experienced with them, and then when they come back after days, weeks, months or years spent elsewhere, without us with other friends, we hug just like we did years ago because they already have a place in our hearts… Reflection: Seven Hundred Ninety-Three ……………………………………………………… One. The world is a waiting-room. Life is just waiting to die. But why? Why not? What are we waiting for? When God comes and tells us what we want to hear? What is our purpose of waiting? Time passes, and we age, and our waits are running out. What are we hoping for? Not a promotion above life for sure! We’re just atoms that have been given meaning by some probability. As well as stone, tree, air, water, etc. … we take place at this time and place. The only difference is that we are starting to wait, and we are starting to experience it. Life is beautiful, as long as we live it and do not wait! Two. I think one of the human destinies in life is to lose the destiny. To lose material things, feelings, thoughts, reasons. At the end of our lives, we lose that life on our own. Not everyone can accept the loss. To recover it, some people take only a short time, some people take months, if not years. I call it “it” a change because in a sense it is a change. In this case, however, I am already talking about emotional matters, more or less. We’ve been losing something since we were born. When we leave the comfort of our mother’s tummy, the first thing they take away from us is the umbilical cord that connects us to the being that gave us life. And since then, we’ve been losing all the time, but we’re also gaining a lot. We’re losing childhood, playfulness, naivety. Going back to our childhood years, the innocence, we will surely remember how we began to miss the toy that our little friend across the fence took from us. Who didn’t get hurt? All of us, I think. And if you say you didn’t, I’m sure you just don’t remember. Over time, however, we find that toys are not the most important thing in our lives. How about a reputation? Is there anyone who doesn’t care about his reputation? Maybe so, but we’re going to have to look really hard. We’ve had a good reputation all our lives, we take it for granted, but one day we’ll lose it, and we’ll find that we care about it more than we’ve been able to admit. Health? Everybody’s talking about it. We can read about it everywhere. We’ll find out how to take care of it everywhere. Do we care enough about our health? As long as we’re healthy, we think we can withstand all the strain. After a while, we find out that’s not the case. Ask the sick how they value their health. I’m sure their answer will be different from a healthy one. Love? With this “thing”, we are aware of its value perhaps even before we have it. Part of it. Half of it. As well as health and reputation, we must take care of it. If we leave it dumped, we lose it. Simple! But love is a long chapter in our lives that each of us will know. Whether voluntarily or vice versa. But what is the most valuable thing to you of all these and other “things”? For me, it’s life. Not only of mine but also of my friends, my family, my loved ones. But everyone organizes their life and their values differently. In my opinion, however, our opinions will meet in many….. Three. Listen, Sushanta, the task you absolutely must do—you must begin doing it. Grit your teeth and start! Delay only breeds more delay, nothing else. Tell me, which necessary task in this world was ever pleasant? Make yourself do the work like a robot, at least begin it, force yourself to do it every single day—the rest will sort itself out. What? You don’t enjoy doing it? Does the world run on whether you like something or not? Has it ever? Look around you—this world belongs to robot-humans, not emotion-monsters! You’ve grown up eating rice, but now you don’t like eating bread, is that it? This is bread-time, not rice-time. Start eating bread, keep eating it. You’ll see—eventually even bread will seem delicious. You want to enjoy the benefits of bread, but you also don’t want to eat bread. What kind of logic is that! Are you playing games? Is this world your ancestral property, brother? Four. What does a healthy lifestyle even mean? Does that mean dressing healthily? Eat and drink healthily? Sports and a healthy night’s sleep? Admit it, who among us wants to live forever? It all starts with healthy food. It is worth eating a lot of vegetables, fruits and fish. Fried and baked foods should be limited. Doctors are haunted by cholesterol and heart attacks. Females are most afraid of cellulite and fats. Eating healthy is just a terrible thing to do. Now and then, the concept of what is and isn’t healthy changes. Plus, food, right next to sex, is the greatest passion a man has. Don’t take lightly the saying that everything is done better on a full stomach. However, a healthy lifestyle will force you to make a choice. The choice of a green path that will make you a healthy but emaciated person, or a path of fat producing obese but happy people. Therefore, it is necessary to compromise and enjoy fried mutton with a rich vegetable sky!!! And there’s a drink. A person should drink over 2 litres of liquids per day. However, it is a volatile value and is constantly changing due to the weather and doctor haggling. One should drink as he sees fit. Everyone has their own peace and taste. Drinking only water and mineral water is not healthy at all. Some tea will really help you. Sometimes it is necessary to step back a little and taste the alcohol. However, excessive consumption can lead to drunkenness. But once in a while, experiencing a monkey isn’t such a big deal. Nowadays, livers aren’t that much needed! You’re not going to take them to your grave anyway! You can either cool them off or sell them! The choice is yours…lol! If we move away from the extreme, we will find that one or two cups of wine for pleasure will help the body greatly. Who among us doesn’t want a sporty body? We would like to have flat tummies, broad shoulders and slender hips. That’s why we have to play a little more sports. But in today’s rushed world? People have to work hard to feed themselves or hungry necks at home. If you’re not a professional athlete, you don’t have much time for sports. Luckily, there are weekends, rest period. A popular pastime is nature walks, bike rides, swimming or dancing. A person should quite often stretch their smothered body in the fresh air. But nothing should be exaggerated. Even sport is a risky business. You don’t like the track or the environment, and you can lie in the hospital for who knows how long. Maybe you’ll take something for life. I have seen some people really overcautious about health die at a very early age. Sleep is perhaps the most important part of life. It’s the right rest for body and mind. Do not underestimate this element unnecessarily. It can get you a lot of revenge. And when I mean ugly, I mean ugly. It’s evening, you’re lying at home, and you can’t sleep. You’re rolled from side to side, and there’s no peace of mind in the morning. As experts say, regularity is important! Regular, eight-hour sleep can extend your life by up to a year. It’s not such a big crime to lie in bed and spend a little more time there. And what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Optimism is undoubtedly part of a healthy lifestyle. It helps us all overcome the ills of life. Thanks to it, one can prevent a number of diseases. Optimism helps in times of stress and need. People with this gift are undoubtedly living to an older age. A sense of humour goes hand in hand. When people don’t take their shortcomings and illnesses too seriously, they gain a new perspective on the world and realize that a healthy lifestyle is needed. A man can worry about his life, play sports, eat healthily, and eventually, something will run him over at the crossing anyway! So, enjoy life while you can! You have to die of something anyway! Reflections: Seven Hundred and Ninety-Nine ……………………………………………………… One. No one is expelled from a temple for the ‘crime’ of worship—the temple is, after all, a place for worship! Expulsion happens only when the priest is disliked by the temple committee or the devotees. Since worship is essentially folk practice, pleasing people matters more here than the worship itself. The problem isn’t with the method of worship, but with the worshipper. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to understand this simple truth. Two. Bangladesh is a country much better than America. They had only one Trump as their president, while we have millions of Trumps as our citizens. They had only one on the throne, we have millions on the streets—the same thing, museum-material! They have only one Whitehouse, we have millions of Whitehouses scattered throughout the country. Hey America, never even dare to show us your power! If Trump is a total package of entertainment, we are blessed to have such packages everywhere. Follow the big portals if you are not sure of it. If you still don’t find any, congratulations, you have just won a membership! People here are the people with cuteness overloaded! Trumps never die. Three. Beauty… it is a relative concept or a constant value… I think both…. a word that means a lot… everyone takes care of their appearance…. Sometimes you can’t see it… But everyone’s trying to look their best… the question is, how do you rate a person at first sight??? Or do you have to look more than once?… The first impression is the most important… of course, you don’t know what a person is like if you don’t talk to them or only care about them superficially… I don’t like to judge people by their looks, but when I think about it, I actually do it too. This thought is tearing me in the eye… I mean, how many people are “ugly” to the surface, and yet they’re special and irreplaceable, huh…? All you have to do is remember… anyone who attacks you first. I doubt it’s going to be a man or a model… Although, nothing is impossible… I’m going to go adjust my value chart, and if I don’t, I’m going to at least rethink it… In the meantime, have a good day… Few more words… I’m not going to say I don’t give a damn about appearances, but I’m sure at least 85% of the time I don’t notice it… I mean, beauty doesn’t come from the way we look, but what we’re like inside… What does it matter that someone has a beard all over their face, a wart on their nose, cracked lips, that they have clothes that are no longer worn — if we look at that person, despite all the examples I’ve given, the first thing might be the impression they assert on us? Everyone’s ugly and handsome… and from my own experience – those who are visually beautiful think so much of themselves, whereas those who are not so beautiful are people who are more sensible, though there are exceptions… Well, that’s my opinion, and your reasoning is great in itself! Four. And after a while, you added, “You know… when you’re too sad, you like sunsets…” “Well, on the day you saw the sunset forty-three times, were you so sad?” But the Little Prince didn’t answer. There are times in the lives of princes, small and large, when each of them likes sunsets—when he doesn’t answer the question, “Well, on the day you saw the sunset forty-three times, were you so sad?” Even the smallest heart of the smallest Little Prince hides, under the guise of silence, moments and memories that evoke shadows that only the darkest rays of the setting sun, by their light and warmth, can scare away. The human soul is like an owl, like a moth. She has velvet wings, and her movements are equally inaudible and shy. When they step on a man’s soul, it’s like squeezing a moth in the deadly grip of your hands. And then those trampled and saddened, disappointed souls come to life at sunset. Then all their sorrows and pains will be carried away for a moment by the breeze with which night comes. A breeze bearing the measure of hope that there’s always another day. The moment when even the Little Prince might answer the airmen, whether he was so sad that he saw the sunset forty-three times. But what if he doesn’t answer this time? Maybe you squeezed the moth too hard. Sometimes the pain and sadness we carry within us is so immense that simply voicing it would make us more vulnerable than a rose petal. But sometimes the evil in the black depths of our heart’s ocean works like a serum, as an antidote that, on the contrary, strengthens us and allows us to overcome the obstacles that life puts in our way. But not only the wrongs committed can put a burden on our backs—sometimes the pain and sadness triggered by the power of our beauty and vulnerability change us in ways that give us the strength to move forward, the necessity to move forward. Even moments that feel eternal irreversibly become a past that, in the present, no longer exists. Perhaps the Little Prince remembered something ancient, distant, but painfully real and present—something that has changed him but from which he cannot return. Not only painful, but also beautiful memories can be essentially hurtful, and when both small and great princes do not want to answer the question: “Well, on the day you saw the sunset forty-three times, were you so sad?”, they do not make themselves sadder—we do not know how fierce a battle may be tormenting them. Do not crush the velvet wings of their souls in the deadly grip of your hands. Even you will love the sunset one day, even your soul will desire to fly softly and quietly like a moth. **Thought: Seven Hundred Ninety-Five** ……………………………………………………… One. At the end of his will, he writes: Give every day the opportunity to become the most beautiful day of your life. It wasn’t a bad thought, I liked it, but this last sentence surprised me. I think he imagines it pink. I’d like to try to make every day the most beautiful, but… How? I live abroad, in a city I don’t like. Furthermore, I work as a waitress, and how am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of watching two eternally screaming twins every day? How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of being so sick that I’m happy to lie in bed and drink tea by myself? How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day of stealing my 350 dollars and a phone two months old? I’ve only been in another country for two weeks, no phone numbers, a few miles home, no friends to turn to, cold and hopeless. How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of some disgusting guy trying to rape me in a restaurant in the bathroom in broad daylight? How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of having a friend at work? You’re sad, and you know that until you’re with him, you have to wake up on your own a few more times. How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of knowing that in two weeks I will go to my country and not see two months a person to give my life to? How am I supposed to make the most beautiful day out of no one promising me that nothing will happen to them, that they won’t forget me? Of course, I have a lot of beautiful days: I’ve passed the exam, a lot of days when I’m with him, the day comes when my friends and I just go out to throw a party in the nearby small town. The day I paint a picture for a friend, and he asks me if he can get it printed and keep it in a frame, the days when I win in the bet over a friend, the days I’m in a restaurant with him or just on a walk with him, and finally, the days with him when he first showed me the sea, how he covered my eyes, and then he revealed and said, “Look!”, and I started crying like a little girl because I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. When I can, I try to make the day nice, but it’s not always possible. And I can’t really tell which day of my life has been the most beautiful day of my life so far. Probably because he gave me a chance to live the others. And one more to conclude: If every day were beautiful, after a while we would get tired of life, because it would be without tension, without fear, which can sometimes be pleasant, but not always. **Two.** From time to time I get this strange mood, I move like a moon shadow and I perceive my surroundings very strangely. Such moods most often come in autumn, when the dry weather comes, the leaves of trees slowly change their colour into different shades of warm pastel colours, and some people sort of slow down the pace of their existence. However, I would not say that this is entirely about big cities. When I look at everything from the point of view of a third unbiased person, or better from a bird’s-eye view, I suddenly see the noise of all those people rushing for something and rushing at all costs to increase their material possessions. But there’s a question of why. What makes them do it? There are answers, but not everything is so simple and unambiguous. Perhaps most people today are being rushed to such a rushed life by today’s consumer society. Money is everything!! You’re going to get an apartment for them, you’re going to pay rent, you’re going to buy food and super clothes, so you’re always “IN” and look good. Also, kids today cost a lot of money, they still want a newer cell phone, because the old one isn’t coloured yet, then it doesn’t have a camera, etc. But they don’t know the price of money themselves, and they don’t know what it means. Today’s people sometimes feel like they’ve been washed away, they don’t act honestly, they don’t help the weaker, they just fade away emotionally. Feelings don’t tell them much, and they do all this in the name of luxury, their own comfort, and money. I therefore ask myself, “Is it really so bad with us and what could be done about it ??” This is a question of reflection for all who wish to consider it and find in it at least a piece of truth with which they would agree. **Reflection: Seven Hundred Ninety-Six** ……………………………………………………… **One.** I think friendship is the strongest bond that can ever arise between people. Yes, I’m sure you’ll object,…and what about love? It is beautiful, uplifting, but friendship is often more valuable and longer-lasting than most of our loves. After a while, love can fall away, the primal fascination disappears, while many friendships last a lifetime. “I have friends”, I must say with astonishment. And with the same wonder: “What did I do to deserve them?” Is it right? Do I really have to earn my friends? According to George Washington, True friendship is a plant of slow growth and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity, before it is entitled to the appellation. If we don’t value our friends, can’t pamper them or don’t respect them enough, we’re not in a way to have any. I have to respect my friends, take them for who they are, with all their faults and shortcomings, because anyone who seeks friends without mistakes will almost always be left alone. Having good friends, distant or close, intensively sharing with them, brings a feeling of true joy to our lives. The greatest gift that can be given is to lay down our lives for our friends. But do we know that our friend would give their lives for us? Can we be so sure about that? That’s a question of our faith in him. Only if I trust them unconditionally, so much so that I open my heart to them and reveal my greatest secrets, and they, on the contrary, theirs, can I declare that I have a true friend? The question, however, is who such a real friend really is. When I know someone, I spend a certain amount of my free time with them, and I can count on them, it still doesn’t make them friends. He’s a friend. I call a friend a person I feel even more for. I don’t know exactly how to describe it. It’s just an incomprehensible sense of closeness, belonging, trust and coexistence. Friends often don’t need words to express their feelings, they look at each other and immediately know what they mean. They may not always agree, but the main thing is if they understand each other. Even so, we need much more for a quality friendship. I consider understanding, mutual support and conversation to be the most important. It is necessary to be able to share your suffering, just as it is important to be able to listen. We’re expressing our interest in each other’s problems and worries. We have to take care of friendship. Furthermore, we must share our sorrows with them so that they are half and joy so that we can double it. Friendship means not only taking but also giving. Maybe my ideas of friendship are slightly naive, but I still believe and hope that people who believe in similar values of friendship still exist. I can’t imagine life without my friends. A life without friends would be boring, grey and poor. It’d lose a value that can’t be replaced by anything else, it’d stop filling me up in some positive way. Because only the life we live for others is worth it! Two. I’m sure each of us recognized during our youth the feeling that our own lives seemed a little empty and insecure. During school years, we perceive everything differently than in adulthood, we try to form our opinions, convince others of our values and get hardened in them. Many times, we will find out that we were wrong or that what we have stood for so far is not right for us, but such disappointments and new beginnings belong to life. In this extremely complex stage of internal contradictions, we are often looking for something to hold on to—a pattern. Let us ask ourselves: Why is this the case? Let’s remember our first big failure of our lives, whether in love or at school. Sure, such things always make us think about ourselves, but when one is young, one only collects one’s experience and often does not know how to deal with such an unpleasant morning. At these moments, usually comes the helping hand of someone who at first may not even be close to us, but over time we build trust in them and even in the aforementioned pattern. But we don’t necessarily have to feel disappointed to look up to someone. I think there are a lot of young people who are happy with themselves and admire someone for their certain quality, ability or good attitude in life. But the question remains what the “good opinion” actually represents. We all have a different idea of what’s right or wrong because what helps us can hurt others. Therefore, it is not good to believe everything that someone tells us, even if at first glance it may seem like a piece of well-intentioned advice. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with someone finding a role model, whether in someone close to them or even in a hero. I think the problem arises when they begin to believe headlong in everything that the pattern presents and imitate everything they do. I see a lot of examples like that around me, and it usually ends badly. Influencing people is never right, even if it needs to be well-thought-out. There’s a difference between making someone think and raising them like a dog. It is a pity that many young people are manipulated so much that they have no room for their own personality. They often do things they regret in the future. On the other hand, it helps a lot to be pushed in the right direction when you’re young. This role will be handled primarily by parents who should be our role models or even long-term friends. These are people who don’t want to hurt us. But parents often don’t realize that we live our own lives and try to live it for us a lot. It’s strange that a lot of young people don’t usually take this from their parents, whereas with almost strangers, it’s not a problem for them. And here we are again stuck up with the influencing. So, what’s the deal with pattern-making during adolescence? Role models in family, school, books—all of this can be very beneficial for our mental development. I mean, without these things and people, we wouldn’t get the impulse to think hard about our whole lives. I feel like it was easier for young people in the old days. Bad things were hidden back then, and one perceived a certain level that I think is lacking in today’s world. Anger, violence—all of this is shown to us through the media as a sensation. It’s hard for a man who still wants to find good in the midst of evil. **Thought: Seven Hundred Ninety-Seven** ……………………………………………………… One. A bird doesn’t lay bigger eggs simply by growing bigger; rather, a bird grows bigger by laying bigger eggs. Two. Summer is my favourite season. There’s beautiful weather with water for swimming in the pond and lots of fun with friends from the neighbouring village. There’s nothing like such a pleasant time. They call me Babla, and I’m eight years old. Every time I did all my duty at home, I was allowed to enjoy summer fun on request with my friends. My mother, however, always told me to come home before sunset. If I had not done so, mom would have found me and took me to home forcefully. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about a hunched-over old woman with dishevelled black hair with a big head, but I don’t really believe it. The sun was slowly descending to the distant hills, and that was a clear instruction for me to go home slowly. Today, however, the weather was so beautiful and so pleasantly warm that I did not want to leave at all. “Boys, I’m going, you have to go.” shouted the rancher. I finally decided I had to listen to my mom. “Don’t be silly, it’s far away in the dark,” cried my friend Belal. “My mother said if I didn’t get there on time, she’d find me and take me away!” “I hope you don’t believe these stories already been told by our parents,” Belal begins to sing to me. “We didn’t try our new boat, and you’d leave,” Talat said. The boys are right, nothing can happen if I return a little later, I thought. Time passes quickly, and there is a joyous smouldering from the water. The sun begins to hide behind the woods, and the sky slowly darkens. In the temple, a bell rings, kneeling to ward off all children. They all come out of the water, get dressed and run home. I was the only one who stayed at the pond and had to go over the hills to the neighbouring village. Only now did I realize what I had done. “It’s going to be a beating at home,” I spoke softly into the cold evening. I run quickly to a small dirt road that leads to black forests. It’s getting darker and darker, and my head is giving birth to all sorts of delusions and images of ghosts that I’ve heard people tell about. I get scared and run faster and faster until I gasp. Eventually, I have to stop to rest for a while. I stand among the black shadows of tall trees and souls. After a short respite, I want to move on, but something stops my intention. I hear that someone or something is moving against me and quickly retreats from the path illuminated by the moon to hide in the shadow of the tall trees. A mysterious black figure emerges before my eyes, slowly heading towards me. My eyes become dark, and they make me crazy, and the shadow keeps getting closer. Tall hunched figure on crutches, dishevelled hair covering the face, covered from head to toe with a black cloak. It was only under my bare feet that tiny twigs cracked. I crouch in the inch so as not to reveal my presence. My heart beats like a bell, and tears come to my eyes. I remember unhappily the words of my mother, which I did not follow, and I paid the price. “Mommy,” I whispered softly and wept. It’s like a mysterious figure hears my words, and stops just ahead of me. I look back a few times, but after a brief moment, I continue with a shuffling step forward. “Kneeling!” I sobbed for the last time, and as the figure faded into the shadows, I ran out and looked back at nothing until I got home. Three. Wake early each morning, wash yourself, gather your schoolbag and set off for class! These are the simple facts and rituals that nearly all of us have endured in pursuit of achievement. Some flourished; others faltered. Therein lies the crucial difference. Most adults hold school in high regard. They declare it necessary, vital even. Yet teenagers harbor entirely different sentiments. Some dismiss it outright; others seek escape at every turn. Naturally, there are exceptions. When you pose the question to an adult—”What purpose does school serve?”—they will likely respond with a knowing smile. A smile that implies: someday you’ll understand. Though you hunger for that understanding now, silence serves you better, for one cannot teach wisdom to those who believe they already possess it. During our kindergarten years, we likely anticipated high school with excitement—it represented something novel, though we harbored vague fears of the unknown that lay ahead. In first grade, we encountered new faces, searching among them for companions. Perhaps for the first time, we faced challenges we might have tackled alone. Given our tender age, solitude was never truly our lot—parents and teachers stood ready to guide us. As we matured, problems multiplied, but mercifully, so did our experience. At school, our desires were manifold, compelling us to establish certain principles of order that we employ to this day. But with age came accumulated responsibilities and deeper understanding. My friends and I abandoned our mischief and began to think more seriously. Here too, of course, exceptions abound. What I mean to say is this: every advantage carries its burden. School bestowed upon us life’s lessons, introduced us to new souls, broadened our perspective, clarified our aspirations, imparted knowledge of science and the arts, instilled determination, and much more. Even the hardships we bore, the criticisms that weighed upon us—these too were lessons learned, at least in part, within school’s walls. We learned to speak at home, but at school, we perfected it and got the knowledge of the necessary words mostly from friends from school. It’s hard to imagine where we’d have gathered this valuable knowledge from if we hadn’t gone there. If we didn’t go, we’d have more time. Time for things that seem necessary and important to us. They’ve been perfecting things we want to do for a living. But how would we get those things? We usually get to them through school. And we’d meet people, but it would probably take us longer to get to know them and make friends, which is easier being at school. ভাবনা: সাতশো আটানব্বই ……………………………………………………… এক। Perhaps every soul harbors some cherished sanctuary where it can slip away, breathe freely, and release the accumulated burdens of daily existence—those grinding weights of perpetual stress and mechanical routine. I too possess such refuges, several in fact, and the more I contemplate them, the more such places surface in memory. Yet here I encounter a curious impasse: can I truly determine which among these sanctuaries feels most profound, most essential? Absolutely not—for in doing so, I would feel myself betraying those other beloved havens that have sheltered me through different seasons of struggle and discovery. I pondered this paradox at length, until understanding dawned. Where do I truly flee when I seek those wondrous places? To the mind itself—that intimate dimension of my being that grants me that blessed sense of safety and solace. Whatever troubles weigh upon me, I invariably turn to share them with my consciousness—not merely problems, but joy and love as well. This is the faculty within me that weighs and examines, the source behind every choice I make, the force that governs my every gesture, indeed my entire existence thus far and whatever future awaits. Can it be, then, that my most cherished refuge is consciousness itself? Both yes and no—it offers escape from the external world through a kind of “farewell to my surroundings,” yet even the mind requires an actual place in reality. A location where it can encounter fresh subjects and draw inspiration for future contemplation. After considerable reflection, I arrive at my conclusion: I do indeed possess such a place. There I find myself better able to focus my thoughts, and when I depart, I feel suffused with renewed energy. My secret sanctuary lies concealed some 2000 feet above sea level on Nilachal Hill, five kilometers distant from Bandarban town. Each visit unfolds as an extraordinary encounter—the weather shifts daily, so I never know what awaits my arrival. My deepest pleasure comes when stronger winds blow, when clouds gather overhead just before the rains descend. I love to lose myself in those verdant hilltops and the meadows that spread below. For the most part, I sit on the benches there and, filled with happiness after the ascent, enjoy the view far into the region, also in the surroundings. As if I had everything I can see in my hand, the cottages on the hill, or rather the houses, seem to be numerous—all the dwellings in the distance. Slowly I look at the path of the road I climbed here through, it is long unpleasant and thorny, but I know it was worth it. It’s divinely calm, all I hear is the sound of the wind playing to the rhythm of the dancing trees, a moment later dewdrops are added to the rhythm drumming on the stones, it’s just the cry of the clouds from the surrounding beauty in the form of rain decided to add to the wind to the band. I don’t think I have any more words for now. Two. The most precious thing I possess… The most precious thing I possess… A difficult question, this measuring of what matters most. What is most important to me… I contemplate this question again and again, it pursues me day and night, occupying every free moment as I try to discern how best to identify and order my priorities… The first thing that comes to mind is life itself. Yes, life is the most important thing to me. Without life, I could neither possess anything, nor experience anything, nor offer anything that others might consider most valuable. Life is the greatest gift ever bestowed upon me. It places the key to fortune’s door in my hands, and it remains my choice whether to turn that key and press the handle… Yet to live in sickness is more curse than gift. When life brings constant pain, when the soul finds itself imprisoned in an ailing body unable to pursue what it chooses, then it begins to tremble like the very flesh that confines it. And often, when all hope gutters out like a flame cast into water, life loses all worth, becomes unwelcome, and is returned with grievance. This is why I value health—physical and mental—almost as highly as life itself. Once there lived an old gentleman, very, very old, yet perfectly sound in body. He dwelt alone amid the mountains. He had never married, never taken a companion, befriended no one, and had no children. His pension kept him in comfort, and he wanted for nothing. His life stretched long and free of ailment, until one day he died in solitude, unnoticed, unmissed by any. Was this man happy? He lived and was well—but is that sufficient for happiness? Though he may never have grasped it, the truth is he did not. There is far, far more required. Love, family, friendship. These are both the beginning and end of all joy. They are very precious to me, and I cannot imagine life without them – it would probably be sad and desolate like the Saharan desert. Furthermore, they give a man a background. Every man having those knows he has a place to go in bad times. He knows that at a time when the rest of the world will turn its back on him, his family won’t betray him. Then there are many other things, qualities and feelings that are important to me. Freedom, pride, ingenuity, faith, hope, financial security, overhead roof, chocolates, music and books… all have an important place in my life, but it’s just a nice addition. None of this can replace health, long life, a strong friendship and a coherent family. That’s the most valuable thing I have. Knowing that I live surrounded by love, feeling and understanding, I have a healthy body and fresh air in my lungs. That I’m a free being. Knowing that I’m really alive…